


Fourteen Night Stand.

by timeforteaaa



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: COVID-19, Coronavirus, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Chanyeol/Baekhyun, One Night Stand, Quarantine, Stupid Boys, Written at 1am, isnt he always, jongin is hot, kyungsoo turns the air blue regularly, mentions of sex related things but no actual sex, please help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeforteaaa/pseuds/timeforteaaa
Summary: Kyungsoo wakes up to a lockdown notification and a man in his bed.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 30
Kudos: 178





	Fourteen Night Stand.

**Author's Note:**

> update 21st March: MY SLEEP DEPRIVED MIND FORGOT SOMETHING IMPORTANT. my darling horny goat Lizzie kindly have me the title for this fic. A big shout out to her along with Lisa and Indi for managing to come up with such a fitting title when I basically refused to tell them anything about the fic. Thnk u Lizzie, u r a fic title queen.

well hello there bet you weren't expecting to see me, were you now. uni is killing me, as usual, but i stayed up in a tea-driven 1am frenzy to write this fic, as i feel that i should contribute to the community given the current events. if we're gonna all be quarantined, we're gonna damn well get quarantined together with kaisoo fic. hell yeah. 

OH GOD I AM SO TIRED. also i missed u all. dearly. i adore you. so much. i hope you are all well!!! please stay healthy and look after those around u in these times of crisis. 

OK THIS FIC. this fic is LAME. like quality, timefortea lame. useless. this was writtenin one sitting, no breaks, nothing. chaos reigns over me. i am an unstoppable force of caffeine and broken dreams. THIS IS COMPLETELY UNEDITED, COMPLETELY UNBETAED NONSENSE. but its cute, and its kaisoo and THATS WHAT WE LIKE PEEPS. warnings for trash trash trash cheese, fluff, romance, but also one night stand aftermaths and hoe business cus ummm its me honestly if youre expecting any less at this point youre wrong. also lots of sweariness cus honestly kyungsoo is a mess of a man and he is me. this is prob really incoherent and moves to quickly but ASTICK WITH ME OK WE GOT THIS. any and all msitakes are my own

ok god i actually do need to sleep THE EXHAUSTION IS KICKING IN. anyway. i hope you enjoy this fic!!!! i love you!!!!! i miss you!!! i adore you all you wondrous humans. 

stay safe my noodles

keep it cool, keep it kaisoo kids

LOTS OF LOVEEEEEE, tea <3333333333333

**Fourteen Night Stand**

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

_Fuck._

It’s not like Kyungsoo isn’t prepared for this. The government have been suggesting for weeks that lockdowns were a possibility in the face of the coronavirus. 

They just weren’t supposed to happen _now_. There’s been 12 cases in the entire country. Who shuts everything down for that? The government, apparently. 

Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be an issue. Kyungsoo is an introverted home boy, and he always keeps a plentiful supply of food in the cupboards for his cooking experiments. He even bought a brand new 20-pack of toilet paper just the other week. He is totally prepared for this. 

Except he _isn’t_ prepared to be going through this with a complete stranger. 

It had been a dumb idea, really, to go out for Baekhyun’s birthday. Baekhyun and Chanyeol form a demon team when given free access to a noraebang and it barely takes half an hour before the soju is raining down everyone’s throats like it’s monsoon season. 

Then, of course, there is always a trip to some hazy, suspicious club, with thumping bass music and a plentiful supply of even more sweet sugary alcohol to wash away all of your troubles and your dignity and quite possibly your future also. 

Said club last night housed a tall, gorgeously tanned man with hip rolls so smooth Kyungsoo could barely think straight (he definitely could not think straight, _at all._ He could only think gay, helplessly, helplessly gay. Damn.) 

One thing had led to another and they’d shared a tumble or two (or three, or four, possibly five if you include the mutual blowjobs) in Kyungsoo’s crisp white sheets. 

When he had woken up this morning, Kyungsoo had expected to find the man gone, or at least getting ready to go. They could have shared an awkward five minute conversation about how last night was great, just long enough so the man could grab his clothes, and then he would leave, maybe leaving a phone number as he went. 

Then, Kyungsoo could skulk to his cabinet, down a pint of water and paracetamol, and go about eating the leftovers of takeaway Indian still languishing in his fridge. He could sit in blissful silence and think about how much he hates himself and all of his life choices. Perfect. 

Except, because life hates him, this fateful morning has not followed the usual plan. 

This morning, the gorgeous caramel man is still asleep. He’s dozing softly with his limbs tangled, his silky hair splayed across a pillow, and precious pout on his buttery soft lips. 

This morning, the government has also enacted a lockdown situation. Every person in the country must stay inside whichever building they find themselves in. There are police and soldiers on the street, and Kyungsoo is royally fucked in more ways than one. 

He gnaws at his fingernails anxiously as the news channel on the television rolls endless streams of information for the general public. He should call someone, really. Someone who’ll know what to do. 

Really, he should call Chanyeol and Baekhyun and scream blue murder down the phone at them. However, the likelihood is those foul, disgusting creatures will probably be celebrating the forced lockdown by fucking over every surface in their home, and Kyungsoo has no desire to hear that. 

In the end, he settles on calling Minseok. Sweet, sensible Minseok, who makes everything right in the world. 

“Oh, Kyungsoo, honey,” He sighs down the phone when Kyungsoo tells him the situation. “I really wish I knew what to suggest. These are… unprecedented times and I think —“ He stifles a little giggle, and Kyungsoo at least appreciates the effort, “I think you might just have to… stick it out.” 

Kyungsoo pinches his nose with his thumb and forefinger and tries not to scream. 

“I mean, you certainly had a lot of chemistry last night?” Minseok tries to be helpful. 

It is not helpful at all. Kyungsoo still wants to scream. “We did. But I’m not sure one night of athletic sex equals an excellent quarantine buddy.” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out, honey.” Minseok soothes. Bless him, the man is a saint. It must be so hard being a proper grown up and having to deal with an emotional wreck like Kyungsoo. He does sound distracted all of a sudden though, and Kyungsoo realises he should really let him go about his day. 

“Listen, Min, thank you I’ll — I’ll keep you posted.” 

“You’d better,” Minseok adds with a clear smirk in his voice, “He was gorgeous.” 

Kyungsoo hangs up wordlessly and edges back over to the bed. To be honest, if caramel man is still sleeping he might as well too. Hopefully the headache will be gone with a couple of hours rest, even if the regrets aren’t. 

At least he can remember the guy’s name. That means Kyungsoo wasn’t too heinously drunk last night. 

He climbs back into the bed gingerly, sliding under the covers and trying not to disturb his bedfellow. 

The man’s name is Jongin, Kyungsoo is certain. It’s a nice name, Jongin, and all Jongin’s tend to be hideously attractive. There was a guy Kyungsoo went to university called Jongin. Kyungsoo had a raging crush on him for the entire three years, but back then he was a baby gay with no clue how to ask out a pretty man, and he never wound up the courage. 

Kyungsoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing to settle back into sleep. Just before he gets the chance, the body behind him stirs. 

Jongin wakes up with a deep inhale, before giving a wide yawn and stretching his arms. 

He’s lying facing away from Kyungsoo, and his back muscles flex beautifully with the movement. Kyungsoo has a sudden urge to lick. 

Just as Kyungsoo is ogling, the man rolls over. 

“Good morning.” He mumbles, rubbing his eye sleepily. 

_Oh fuck, he’s cute_ is Kyungsoo’s initial thought. 

The second thought is, oh fuck, he’s cute and hot, because Kyungsoo’s mind helpfully supplies slo-mo replays of all of the events of last night. 

He realises he’s staring at Jongin, or more accurately staring at Jongin’s nipple, the one that’s just peeking out from the bedclothes, with a bewildered deer-in-the-headlights look. 

He schools his face and looks up at Jongin, hoping that his brain will provide something smooth and charming to say. 

However, upon making eye contact, all smooth and charming thoughts are replaced, once more with OH FUCK FUCK FUCK. SHIT. FUCK. BOLLOCKS. WANKER. FUCK. 

Because Jongin, as in Jongin he slept with Jongin, is in fact Jongin. He’s Jongin as in Kim Jongin, Kim Jongin who he went to university with. Kim Jongin who he spent many an evening jerking off too and be too afraid to even look in the eye. 

Well now Jongin’s dick has looked him in the eye, certainly, so that’s just fucking great. 

Jongin can clearly see signs of internal panic, because he raises his eyebrows and his voice takes on a gravelly, soothing tone. “Hey, Kyungsoo. It’s me. Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo says, and it comes out embarrassingly short and high pitch. 

Jongin chuckles, a hint of shyness creeping in to his voice. “I enjoyed last night.” 

“As did I.” Kyungsoo says, propping himself up on some pillows. Somehow it feels wrong to be having this conversation lying down and staring in to each others eyes. 

Jongin follows suit, lifting himself on to his elbow and running a hand through his hair. “I’m glad to hear it.” 

Oh fuck this is awkward. Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to act around good looking men. Why is Jongin acting so fucking calm and relaxed about this whole thing? 

Ah. Yeah. He doesn’t know about the lockdown. 

“Um, I don’t know if you know but —“ Of course he doesn’t know Kyungsoo he’s been asleep “Um, the country’s been put on lockdown. We’re not allowed to leave our houses. We — You, we’re um… stuck here.” Kyungsoo gestures vaguely at the TV. 

“Oh, right.” 

Jongin is not reacting logically at all. He isn’t panicking, or freaking out, or making a battle plan of how he’s going to escape this awkward one night stand’s house. 

Kyungsoo stares resolutely at the television, chewing the inside of his cheek anxiously. He’s waiting for Jongin to say something, but he seems content to just sit in silence. 

Yoora, Chanyeol’s sister pops up on the screen, ready with her paper work to give a few quick bulletin notices. 

Kyungsoo switches the TV off as quickly as he can, fumbling the remote in slightly shaky hands. He loves Yoora, and he’s so proud of her for getting this journalist job, but her presence in the whole situation is just a bit too much for his brain to cope with. 

He can see Jongin looking oddly at him out of the corner of his eye, and once again he refuses to make eye contact. 

The silence is stifling, god this is _awful,_ and Kyungsoo really wishes he knew how to act like a functional human being. 

“Shall we get breakfast?” Jongin questions, raising his eyebrows. He’s still talking gently, like he’s speaking to frightened deer, and the caring note in his voice shouldn’t be so attractive but it is. 

“Yes! Yes that’s a brilliant idea.” Kyungsoo says, nodding and throwing himself out of bed in a flourish. Fuck, that was probably too much. He attempts to look cool and relaxed, gesturing loosely over his shoulder. “Kitchen’s this way.” 

Jongin, thank God, is wearing a pair of boxers. They’re tight fitting, so not entirely ideal, but better than nakedness. 

Infuriatingly, he seems to make no effort to put any more clothes on as he follows Kyungsoo to his tiny kitchen. 

“Um…” Kyungsoo says, wringing his hands together awkwardly as he looks around the room. “Take a seat.” He gestures vaguely to the drop down breakfast bar and wobbly stools. 

Fuck. Now he’s got to look like a sophisticated adult who doesn’t eat takeaway leftovers when he’s hungover. Fuck. He loves cooking, but it’s an evening activity. 

A panic scour of his cupboards produces a box of Cornflakes, just enough milk for the both of them and a bag of granulated sugar that’s suspiciously damp and clumped together. 

Jongin takes his sorry excuse for a breakfast gratefully and begins munching it down. 

Kyungsoo perches opposite him and tries not to feel angry at a man who is capable of looking so glowy and ethereal in shitty, yellowish artificial lighting. 

“So, how have you been? I haven’t seen you since… probably the graduation party?” Jongin hums thoughtfully. “That’s been a while.” 

It’s been five years, four months and nineteen days to precise, but Kyungsoo is not counting. At the mention of the dreaded graduation party, Kyungsoo’s blood turns to ice. That had been another night of drinking and embarrassment, and most of it had been wiped from Kyungsoo’s memory. 

“Yeah, a while.” He echoes lamely, stabbing at his cornflakes miserably. Why is Jongin being nice? This would be so much easier if he would be horrible and leave. He’s already digging up past feelings, and they’re starting to swirl uncomfortably in Kyungsoo’s stomach. 

Jongin persists despite Kyungsoo’s lack of conversational flair. “What have you been up to since then? Work?” 

“Yeah. I, um — I got a job at the big engineering firm by the river. I — I like it. What about you?” That’s good. That’s how conversation works. Asking questions. Yes. 

“Ah that’s great! I’m pleased for you. Yeah, I’m a vets assistant now. I’m thinking of doing the full thing you know, like full vet qualifications, but we’ll see.” 

“That’s— really great, Jongin. I remember that being so important to you I — I’m happy you’re happy.” Whoa. That was an unnecessary emotional response. 

Jongin looks at him oddly but not unkindly. “Who would’ve thought those two kids in optional Ancient History would have gone on to be us, eh?” He gestures between them with his spoon. 

A sudden, mad spirit possess Kyungsoo. He drops his own spoon into his bowl and it lands with a splash and a clatter. “Jongin.” 

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin cocks his head to the side. 

“I always liked you, at university, you know. I never told you because I was too scared. But I did. I’m really glad you’re happy now. That’s it.” 

Jongin is frowning. Oh no. 

Kyungsoo’s cheeks flame. God, that was stupid wasn’t it? This is just a one night stand and a quick reminisce, and then Jongin will be gone. Why is he brining feelings into this. 

“I know you liked me.” Jongin states plainly. 

“You WHAT?!” Kyungsoo nearly chokes on a soggy cornflake. 

“I know you liked me. You told me.” 

“I WHAT?!” 

“You told me you liked me at the graduation ball?” Jongin looks concerned. 

Kyungsoo has minimal, minimal memories of the night. He just knows he embarrassed himself several times. He didn’t know the context of said embarrassment. 

“I told you at the graduation ball.” He says sadly. There’s a lump in his throat that’s hard to swallow round, and his cheeks are only getting hotter. This is mortifying. 

Jongin sits up straight all of sudden, as if he’s made a decision. “I was so happy, when you told me. I’d always liked you, too. I thought you were gorgeous, even with those bulletproof lens glasses, and I thought you were so funny. I was in awe every time you’d start work on your engineering essays at the back of class. I loved being around you. I had no idea you felt the same way. I thought I was just being stupid, and that I was holding on to the hope that one day you might look at me and feel the way I felt about you. But you never seemed to notice me — obviously we got on as friends, but you were always closer to Baekhyun and Chanyeol, and Minseok, Jongdae, Junmyeon and Sehun, even Yixing — and I know you only knew him in passing at that time —seemed to get a smile out of you more than me.” 

“Jongin — I —“ 

“And then at the grad ball, you told me you liked me. You apologised, actually, for always glaring at me. You said it was because you couldn’t see all that well, especially without your glasses. You said the reason you glared at me all the time was because you liked looking at me the most, and you liked being with me the most, and you wanted to be with me more. You told me my eyes were like pools of molten chocolate, and that my nose was as cute as a buttercup. You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life running your hands through my hair and pressing soft kisses to my lips. I thought it was all rather poetic for an engineering man. I was impressed.” 

Kyungsoo thinks there is either an earthquake hitting them, or he’s trembling with some unknown emotion. 

“Then you threw up on my shoes, and fell asleep on my shoulder as I tried to limp you back to your house. You kissed me goodnight, just once on the cheek, and it was kind of gross but all kinds of lovely as well.” 

“You — why didn’t you say that I’d — that you —“ Kyungsoo tries not to sound so accusatory, but he thinks he’s about to cry and he really doesn’t know what else to say. 

“I came over again, the next morning. I brought you some soup, and some coffee, and some paracetamol. You were so hungover, and so delirious, it was adorable. I wanted to cuddle you until you stopped moping. But you didn’t mention the night before. You didn’t say anything like what you’d said. I thought, maybe, it was just drunken ramblings. I thought maybe you didn’t mean it. So I never chased it up. We were both going to be busy afterwards, anyway. And here we are.” 

Jongin looks sad now, following a scratch on the table with his fingernail. 

“I - Jongin I— it wasn’t a drunk rambling. I’m — I’m not very good with emotions and words and things,” Kyungsoo waves his hand about airily, “I’m especially not good with them when I’m sober.” 

Jongin huffs out a laugh. 

Kyungsoo forces himself to make eye contact. “But I really did like you, Jongin. Truly. That wasn’t drunk rambling. I mean, it was, and maybe had I been sober I wouldn’t have been quite so… dramatic, but my feelings stand. And I think — I don’t know, I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be averse to spending some more time with you again. I think those feelings are still there. I— yeah. I’d like to see you more.” 

Jongin looks bashful. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you have to say anything like that because — you know, this was a whole one night stand thing and now we’re here and I — yeah.” 

“It’s not — I’m glad Jongin. I felt like I missed my shot at something really good before. Now, I — I mean, we are literally stuck here, together. We might as well make a start on the getting to know each other again thing. I still really like you.” 

“That’s true.” Jongin laughs, and he sounds a lot more relaxed. It in turn makes Kyungsoo’s shoulders slacken, and the two of them sit and giggle mindlessly for a few moments. 

“So…” Kyungsoo starts. 

“I mean, we have got fourteen days of quarantine to go?” Jongin says. 

“What shall we do?” Kyungsoo hums. 

“We could always talk some more? I’m enjoying my cornflakes.” 

“That’s a lie. No one can enjoy these cornflakes.” 

“There is something I think I would enjoy more than the cornflakes, I must admit.” Jongin hums, leaning forward with his chin on his hands. 

“Hm? What’s that then?” Kyungsoo replies, mimicking Jongin and raising his eyebrows teasingly. 

“I think we could get to know each other more by doing what we doing earlier.” Jongin says. 

“I think that’s an excellent idea. Here, or bed?” 

Jongin pretends to look scandalous. “Do Kyungsoo! This is a first date. You can at least take a man to bed first. Being bent over a kitchen table is most certainly a second date idea.” 

Kyungsoo stands up and takes Jongin’s hand in his own. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

And inevitably, he does. Well, they’ve got at least fourteen days! What else are they going to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @teatoxic! currently on priv but still accepting follows <333


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